


Sparks

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Androids, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Niflheim offers Noctis a very special gift.





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Misfire fill for anon’s “*heavy breathing intensifies* @v@” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9308043#cmt9308043).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Noctis barely listens to the Chancellor’s speech as it dips into another dull recitation of why Niflheim’s magitek drones are the absolute _best_ servants on the market. Noctis has heard it all before, and he’s no keener on the idea of having a robot around than he is enslaving even a semi-sentient creature, but he knows that refusing the Empire’s gift would only cause a political incident. Personally, he wouldn’t even mind that, if he didn’t know that his father, Ignis, and maybe even Gladiolus, would never let him hear the end of it. So he follows down the elaborate hallway, both his own Crownsguard agents and the Empire’s ever-present soldiers in tow. The Chancellor pauses at a set of grand oak doors, then turns to fix Noctis with an unsettling grin.

Everything about Ardyn is unsettling. Noctis palpably bristles as Ardyn peters out of his insufferable sales pitch, offering instead, “...Or, perhaps, if your highness is disinclined towards the robotic variety, perhaps a fallen prince would suit you better?” Before Noctis can react to being so casually offered Ravus—at least, he assumes Ardyn means Ravus—like some sort of inconsequential prize, Ardyn adds, “Or a true soldier, rather than a mere trooper? Loqi, how would you like the honour of being our dear prince’s gift?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis can see Loqi stiffen, looking both horrified and murderous. Noctis has only spoken to Loqi a handful of times and knows well enough that he wants as much distance between them as possible. It’s been frustrating enough to have him in the entourage constantly tailing Noctis and Ardyn about the Niflheim base. As diplomatically as he can despite the instinctive revulsion, Noctis grunts, “No, thanks.”

Ardyn shrugs as though it makes no difference. Returning his attention to the door, he pushes it open, then ushers Noctis through.

Noctis steps into a cozy study, outfitted with a single desk and several bookshelves, a few plush chares facing the tall windows, and about a dozen utterly naked young men standing in a line.

Noctis freezes. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Not... _that_. Maybe metallic-looking humanoid shells. The men before him all look as flesh-and-blood as he is, soft and smooth and utterly pristine. He wants to wrench his gaze away, maybe find a blank spot on the wall to stubbornly spend the rest of their meeting staring at, but, somehow, a flash of clear blue tugs his gaze towards a slender blond standing near the middle. Thin but lightly toned, the young man looks about Noctis’ age, about Noctis’ strength, just a little more wiry, a little tighter in the middle and rounder along his shoulders. His spiky yellow hair is coiffed in a punk-ish sort of fray, his sweet face dotted with subtle freckles. When Noctis meets his captivating eyes, he flushes cutely pink and happily smiles back, then looks almost shyly away. 

Noctis’ gaze trails a bit lower, to where his flat stomach dips into a patch of neatly trimmed yellow hair, along the enticing dip of his hip bones and the soft curves of his thighs. Noctis’ eyes land between them, then hurriedly jump back up. He can feel Ardyn watching him. And he can feel his cheeks heating up.

“As you can see,” Ardyn all but purrs, “They’re made in perfect human likeness. And they’re all fully adept at pleasing a human master.”

There’s a pause, during which Noctis should probably say something, but his mouth is too dry and he can’t think of a single word. He looks at blondie’s handsome face, half to look anywhere but the Chancellor and half because he can’t seem to look away.

Even more awkward, Ardyn steps over to the man that’s entranced Noctis, and he drawls, “Ah, do you like this one, Prince Noctis?” Noctis doesn’t get a chance to answer. Ardyn lifts his hand and twirls his finger, ordering, “Well? Show yourself off for our guest.”

The blond flushes deeper, but he instantly obeys, turning his back to Noctis and bending forward to splay both hands against the wall. His chest dips low, hips jutting out, and Ardyn kicks his feet wider apart. The blond spreads his legs farther and arches higher. The pert, round cheeks of his ass dimple as he clenches his muscles, opening his crack enough to show the glittering jewel pinched between them. It’s obviously some sort of plug, bedazzled in honour of their company. Noctis was already breathing conspicuously hard, but at the new view, that intensifies horribly.

Ardyn slaps one of the man’s cheeks and announces, “I will admit, this isn’t one of our stronger models, but he’s quite eager to please and rather handy with electronics. I assure you, he’ll serve you well.”

Noctis... doesn’t know what to say. The blond sneaks a peek over his shoulder, his tentative smile still in place and his eyes full of hope. Like he _wants_ Noctis to pick him. Noctis didn’t know MTs could want anything. And he didn’t know he could care about the wants of an MT.

Ardyn coaxes, “Well? Shall I have one of these packaged up for you, as a symbol of Niflheim’s genuine good will towards Lucis, or will Loqi—”

Noctis quickly decides, “This one’ll do.” His voice comes out a fraction too strained; it sounds like he’s panting. Maybe he is. He tries not to.

“Excellent!” Ardyn chirps, grinning a little too broadly and clapping both hands together. At a snap of his fingers, the rejected MTs turn in unison and march towards the door. Ardyn remains just long enough to tell him, “One moment, Your Highness. I will return shortly with all the necessary paperwork. ...In the meantime, feel free to use my study to test your new gift.”

Noctis weakly nods. Ardyn delivers on his word, swiftly exiting the room, and as soon as the door closes behind him, Noctis practically slumps with relief. The embarrassment of his reaction remains, but at least that’s one less witness. 

And he’s not sure how he feels about the completely naked, horrendously attractive service drone in front of him. With Ardyn gone, the blond slips out of his presentation stance.

He turns to Noctis instead, offers up a hand, and tells Noctis, beautiful and genuine, “Thank you, Your Highness. ...I hope we can be good friends.”


End file.
